Time Will Give Us Nothing
by Kathey27
Summary: The unveiling of Dean and Ruby. / Or, He knows that they are working off of borrowed time.


**A/N: So another prompt table thingy. Yay? *shrug* At least I'm back to writing again.**

**Non-linear yet again because who needs consistency, am I right?**

**It's been a long time since I've posted Dean/Ruby so I hope you all enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned anything, trust me, everything post season 7 would have gone **_**a lot **_**differently.**

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><p><strong>time will give us nothing:<strong>

**01 – Addict**

He is drunk off of her skin, her touch, her name.

He leans in and takes it all in and he will gladly suffocate in her.

* * *

><p><strong>02 – Confess<strong>

The words never leave his mouth. Stay trapped behind teeth and tongue and longing and _could have been_s.

He brushes hair out of her eyes and presses them against her lips instead.

* * *

><p><strong>03 – Haircut<strong>

Her hands are soft as they run themselves through his hair. Gentle, warm, loving, kind.

The quiet snip of the scissors is loud in the open bathroom and it's what he chooses to focus on.

He lets her cradle his head when she's done and presses himself closer.

* * *

><p><strong>04 – First<strong>

No matter what he'd like to tell Sam or what he himself would like to believe, he begins it.

He places his hands on her waist, draws her to him and _takes_.

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><p><strong>05 – Flame<strong>

He dreams of hellfire and blood and pain and it burns its way into his skin.

He turns away from her and _I'm fine._

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><p><strong>06 – Still<strong>

She is bared open before him. Tattered, demon soul for him to see and inspect and judge.

His hell bound eyes take her in, blood and death and torture and pain and all of it, and he can't think of a sight more beautiful.

He holds her gaze and lets her know he understands.

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><p><strong>07 – Elope<strong>

She brings it up, nails tracing patterns into his back, lips red and sinful and pressed against his neck. Her hair tickles his bare skin as she tells him: _We should do it you know. Just to see what Sam will say._

He turns over, grabs her hands in his and he doesn't know how to tell her. How to tell her that yes, he wants to. But not because it'll scare the shit out of Sam and not because he only has a week left and not because he's a desperate lonely man.

He wants to because he wants her. Plain and simple.

He presses a kiss to her cheek and doesn't respond.

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><p><strong>08 – Sing<strong>

Her voice is damn near angelic, the first time he hears it.

She's leaning into him, shoulder to shoulder and dear lord the sight of her belting out Foreigner is something else.

She looks holy almost, for a moment there. Sweet smile on her lips, blonde hair framing her face and blue eyes sparkling with warmth, a voice so sweet it makes his chest ache.

She looks like a revelation.

He takes her hand in his and doesn't let go.

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><p><strong>09 – Admit<strong>

He knows that they are working off of borrowed time. Knows it how he knows Sam's favorite color is red and that his mom loved to bake him pie when he was sad and he knows it how he knows that she is the best thing to ever happen to him. He knows it in his bones.

He returns her smile and damn it, what he wouldn't give for more time.

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><p><strong>10 – Breakdown<strong>

Here are the facts:

She's a demon: fact one.

She's hiding something, something big and he doesn't know what: fact two.

She is capable of bringing him to his knees through touch alone: fact three.

He chooses to ignore the first two and focus on the third because damn it he is twenty nine years old, has hellfire as his endpoint and he should not be this tired this young.

All he cares about at moment is the fact that when she smirks at him, low and just a tad bit cruel, his heart doesn't hurt as much. It's enough for now.

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><p><strong>11 – Alcoholic<strong>

He knows it's generic. He does.

Despite popular belief he actually did pay attention in school, he actually did try his hardest, he actually did want more for himself.

So yeah, he knows what it means to watch your daddy put himself to sleep with a bottle at hand for years and for you to then start doing the same. He knows, okay.

Doesn't mean he's going to stop anytime soon.

Even if as she watches him finish another glass her eyes are sad and empty and her hands and lips both tremble. Especially then.

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><p><strong>12 – Raw<strong>

Having her eyes on him feels like a layer of his skin has been peeled off and is being examined. It makes his nerves hum with energy and the back of his neck tingle and he's pretty sure she knows what she does to him. She _has _to know.

He stands back and lets her have him.

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><p><strong>13 – War<strong>

This is not something he asked for. He never wanted this, never wanted to have to fight everyday tooth and nail for himself and those few that he loves. He never wanted to go to sleep not knowing how he would wake up the next morning and he never wanted to know what the blood of another human being felt like on his skin.

But if he's anything these days it's a soldier and so is she. Snarl and leather and strength and hatred and a knife that can carve out bones.

And he will gladly go into battle if she asks him to.

(She never does but he goes anyways).

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><p><strong>14 – Sore<strong>

Stay still. These are the first words she had said to him in hours. Her face is tight and controlled and her eyes speak of barely contained anger and pain.

Despite this, her hands are gentle as they work to cover up the worst of the burns on his side.

He closes his eyes and does as he's told.

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><p><strong>15 – The Morning After<strong>

He is so screwed. Like really screwed. Like holy-fucking-hell-how-did-i-let-it-get-this-bad-i-just-might-love-this-girl-god-damn-it screwed.

Yeah, that screwed.

Still, he ponders, as he brushes hair away from her sleeping face, sunlight just barely hitting her back, it's not so bad a thing. Being able to call her his.

He presses a kiss between her shoulder blades and gets out of bed.

* * *

><p><strong>16 – Mercy<strong>

He isn't sure why she saves him, not until much later.

At first he has no idea what to think of this bat shit crazy demon coming into his life and trying to manipulate his brother into who knows what.

And he sure as hell has no idea what to think of her storming in, shoving him back and pouring salvation down his throat.

He chooses not to question it too much and doesn't say thank you.

* * *

><p><strong>17 – Band<strong>

He only thinks about it once, near the end.

With just three days left he goes and stands outside the glass window, watches with sad eyes as the couples move around in the store.

His fingers itch, just for a moment, to buy her one. Just a simple little thing, something to let her know that _yes, this does mean something_ and that _yes, I do need you too _and that _yes, I don't want to leave you_.

He turns around and returns to her empty handed.

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><p><strong>18 – Shower<strong>

The water is cool against his skin, keeps him tethered to the present and it provides him a distraction from the red pooling at his feet.

He runs his hands once more over her already closing wounds and presses a kiss to her forehead. Her hands grab hold of his waist and cling on.

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><p><strong>19 – Alive<strong>

_It's okay_. She tells him this again. Repeats it so much that it sounds almost heavenly to his ears.

She runs her hands up and down his arms and the feel of her grounds him.

His hands shake as they look her over, as they try and find any mark or scar that shouldn't be there.

She eventually gives in and lets him.

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><p><strong>20 – Pain<strong>

The smile she gives him, even as he leaves her in the devil's trap is soft, kind. As if she understands why he has to do it, why he can't go into death with her watching.

She escapes and finds him, of course and instead of punching him like he had expected she takes his hand in her and squeezes until he can feel his joints ache.

He squeezes back.

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><p><strong>21 – Insomniac<strong>

The night is cruel to him, unforgiving. Brings to him flashes of blood and death and pain and screams that leave him lying awake at night, staring up at the bright night sky.

She finds him then, sits down with him on the hood of the Impala and presses her hand against his.

He doesn't know if they can trust her yet, or what she really wants but her presence is nice all the same.

He presses back with his hand and they remain there until he feels his body pull him under once day comes.

* * *

><p><strong>22 – Lonesome<strong>

He was convinced for most of his life that he would either die bloody and young and alone or old and bitter and alone.

She snorts when he tells her this, pumps her shoulder to his and _you've got me now dumbass._

He ducks his head, ignores the familiar heat burning his cheeks and nods.

* * *

><p><strong>23 – Forgive<strong>

It's actually easier than he thought it would be.

Looking past the fact that she's wearing a dead girl's skin.

A part of him wonders why she's so damn special, why he's so quickly able to throw it all for her.

But then she smiles and he knows why.

* * *

><p><strong>24 – Skin<strong>

He runs his fingertips along the inside of her tights, the small of her back, the nape of her neck. Traces the scars and marks and birth marks and tries desperately to memorize them all. Tries to give himself something to hold onto once the hellfire grabs a hold of him.

She leans into his hands and lets him continue.

* * *

><p><strong>25 – Need<strong>

She makes his blood hum. That's the only way he can really explain it.

Being near her makes him want to both rip his hair out and kiss her desperately.

He ignores the pulsating of his hand and gets to work.

_No._

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><p><strong>26 – Beg<strong>

He does consider it, for a moment there. Pinned to the wall through sheer power and energy and darkness he considers asking for more time.

Almost opens his mouth because damn it they haven't had enough of it. A few months, barely and it isn't enough. He wants more and he doesn't know how to ask for it.

Lilith's blank eyes are cruel and sharp and they look wrong on her face. He looks away and asks for nothing.

* * *

><p><strong>27 – Blur<strong>

If he tries really hard it unravels. His mind gives out and leaves him aching and tired and longing.

He can't seem to remember a time before she was all he wanted and he can't seem to remember how anyone else's skin tastes but hers.

The memories are all hazy and unclear and he doesn't fight hard to keep them.

She is all he knows now.

* * *

><p><strong>28 – Match<strong>

Their scars line up rather nicely, once he takes the time to compare them.

He tells her this, smoothing hair back from her hair and pressing butterfly kisses along her jawline.

She claws her fingernails down his back and _tell me about it._

* * *

><p><strong>29 – Lacking<strong>

No other body feels the same. No other smile looks the same. No other touch makes him want to jump out of his own skin.

He finds a new body to mold himself around and tries to forget her taste.

He fails. Obviously.

* * *

><p><strong>30 – Repeat<strong>

The second his hand breaks free, bursts through the unforgiving dirt he has one thought and one thought alone:

_Ruby._


End file.
